Rounded with a Sleep
by It's Only a Fanfic
Summary: The Professor tells a dying Blossom the truth about herself. A real tearjerker, with no happy ending.


rounded.html WARNINGS:  
  
1. In this story, the Powerpuff Girls die. For keeps. If the idea horrifies you, don't read it.  
  
2. Everything in this story is fictional, including the "medical" stuff. If you have some of the symptoms described below, it does NOT mean that you're dying. But it does mean that you should get help.  
  
All the characters in this story are created and owned by someone else.  
  
ROUNDED WITH A SLEEP  
  
by Adam Stephanides  
  
As their leader, Blossom noticed the symptoms first. The joy seemed to have gone out of their lives. Bubbles was no longer bubbly, and no longer drew or sang. All she did was sit, staring into space. Blossom would have given anything even to hear her babble one of those interminable, pointless stories which had once so exasperated her. Buttercup still fought fiercely, but without zest. And Blossom herself no longer enjoyed studying or making plans. Even the Professor's smile when she'd been especially good no longer gave her a warm glow.  
They were also losing their superpowers at odd moments. At first rarely, but more and more frequently lately, one or the other of them would find themselves temporarily unable to fly, or without superstrength or some other power. Sometimes they would lose the power to fly when they were already airborne, and hit the ground painfully. Worse yet, there would be moments of weakness when they would collapse, lacking the strength to stand.  
Blossom's memory seemed to be going, too. On her way to fight a monster she'd forget where she was going and what she was doing. A few mornings she'd woken up unable to remember who the girls in bed with her were, or even who she herself was. She was afraid to ask her sisters, but she suspected they were having the same problems.  
And then there were the nightmares. They'd had nightmares before, of course, but these were different. They were terrifyingly real; and in them the Girls actually died, over and over. By now they were all afraid to go to sleep, so they were always tired.  
Blossom urged the other two to hide their problems from the Professor so as not to worry him. It worked for a while: they put on a show of being their old selves, and the Professor seemed fooled. But lately they didn't have the energy to put on an act, not even Blossom. She could see the Professor growing first concerned and then alarmed, but she couldn't help it.  
One chilly morning in November, the Girls went out apathetically to fight a monster. It was a rather weak monster, but when the Girls hadn't returned after two hours, the Professor became frightened. He drove out to where the monster had been and found the Girls lying moaning on the ground, too weak to even move. He put them in the back seat and rushed them back home. There he put them in bed, and gave each of them an injection that put them to sleep.  
Blossom was the first to wake up that afternoon; and, as it turned out, the only one. The room was dark; the Professor had drawn the curtain to shut out the bleak, cloudy day. She turned her head to see the Professor sitting beside the bed. "Professor?"  
"I'm here, precious."  
"The monster..."  
"Shh. Rest now. You're sick."  
"I know. We've been sick for a long time, but we didn't want to worry you."  
"That's all right, darling."  
"I feel better now, though."  
"I gave you some medicine."  
"And it'll make us well, right?"  
The Professor tried to speak several times. Finally he said "I'm sorry, Blossom. I can make you feel better, but I can't cure you."  
"What do you mean, Professor?"  
"You must be brave, dear. You're mature enough to know the truth. You and your sisters are dying."  
"Dying? That can't be! That was just a little monster."  
"That monster just pushed you over the edge. You've been dying for a long time, from the sickness you have."  
"Why didn't you tell us!"  
"I wasn't sure until today. And there was nothing I could do."  
"But a doctor--"  
"You're not like other children, remember? Nobody but me could have had any idea what to do."  
There was a pause. Then Blossom spoke again. "It doesn't seem so bad, really. I feel like I've lived a full life, even though I'll never grow up. But what are we sick from?"  
"It's hard to explain. But I guess you could say you're dying of old age."  
Blossom tried to sit up, but failed. "Old age? But we're only five!"  
"Rest, dearest. Chronologically, you're five. But in terms of the wear and tear your bodies have taken, you're much older than that."  
"But Professor, we've always been fine before. How could we suddenly--"  
"I know this is difficult, but I've decided you deserve to know the truth about yourself at last. You and your sisters are very strong, and very tough. But you're not invulnerable."  
"But we always win anyway."  
"No, Blossom, not always."  
"You mean the Rowdyruff Boys? But we won in the end."  
"No, I mean times when you didn't win in the end. I know you don't remember, but it's true."  
Blossom thought about this. Finally she asked "Did you make us not remember?"  
"Not exactly. Be strong now, Blossom; this is the most difficult part. You and your sisters have died before. Each time, I've recreated you using the formula."  
For a long time neither of them spoke. All that could be heard was the breathing of the other two girls. Finally Blossom asked "How many times?"  
"Eleven. You were killed three times by Him, twice by Mojo Jojo, once by Fuzzy Lumpkin--a freak accident--twice by random monsters, and three times while trying to prevent disasters. You were all very brave each time. I was so proud of you!"  
"But how could you let us fight crime and evil if it was so dangerous?"  
"You were superheroes; it's what you did. Remember how you used to say that? Besides, it made you happy, didn't it?"  
"Yes, it did." Blossom smiled. "But, Professor, we wouldn't remember anything about our previous lives when we were recreated, right? So wouldn't people notice?"  
"Each time I was able to save some of your DNA and use it in the formula. That preserved some of your memories. Not all of them, but enough so that nobody would notice but me. It also carried over your personalities, although there were minor differences."  
"But then, what if one of us died and the others didn't? Wouldn't we remember that?"  
"That never happened. Because you were all created at the same time, whenever one of you died, so did the others."  
"I see." She nodded. "But this time isn't like the others, right?"  
"That's right. Your DNA has been recycled too many times. It bears the scars of all the physical and psychological damage you've suffered in your dozen lifetimes."  
"That's why we're losing our powers, and why nothing is fun anymore, and why we have these nightmares, right, Professor?"  
"Yes, but believe me, darling, I never meant you to suffer like this, I swear!" He was crying now.  
Blossom smiled at him. "It's all right, Professor. It was worth it." She grasped his hand.  
After a while she spoke again. "Professor?"  
"What, dearest?"  
"You aren't going to recreate us again, are you? You'll let us die?"  
"Of course, if that's what you want."  
"Good. Because I'm so tired. I feel like I've been waiting to die for a long time now."  
"I'll make sure you get the rest you deserve. All the rest you want, for as long as you want it."  
"Professor?"  
"Yes?"  
"Will it hurt to die this time? It hurt really bad in my nightmares."  
"No, dear. Thanks to the medicine I gave you, it will be just like going to sleep. A deep sleep without dreams, forever and ever."  
"Sleep without dreams, forever and ever. That sounds nice." She sighed happily. "Professor?" Her voice was much weaker now.  
"Yes, dear?"  
"Can I call you Daddy? I think I'd like that."  
"Of course you can. I'd be honored."  
Blossom smiled. "Thanks, Daddy. And since you created us, I guess you're our Mommy too!" She giggled.  
"Daddy?" Her voice was a whisper.  
"Yes, pumpkin?"  
"You know what?"  
"What?"  
"It was fun being a superhero and saving the day and stuff." He could barely make out her words. "But, Daddy, the times we spent with you were the best times of all!" She closed her eyes.  
Neither Blossom nor her sisters ever regained consciousness. They all died that evening at the same instant. To ensure that his promise to Blossom was kept, the Professor cremated them and sterilized the remains, so that no DNA molecules were left that could be recycled. He scattered their ashes on the ocean, by the beach where they'd loved to play and where the monsters they'd loved to fight had so often appeared. 


End file.
